The sudden click of the disconnected line echoed in Olivia’s ear like a gunshot. She stared at her phone screen, her heart slamming violently against her ribs.

Olivia felt the room tilt. "Daniel? Daniel, where are you?!"

"Don't tell her, kid," a new, deep voice growled over the phone speaker—a voice with a thick, aristocratic European accent. "Miss Carter, my name is Viktor Cross. I am the director of the Vanguard's North American operations."

Luca stepped forward, pulling Olivia behind his shoulder. "Cross," Luca said coldly. "You're a long way from London."

"Ah, Luca Moretti," Cross chuckled, the sound distorted by the phone speaker. "The golden prince of New York. I must apologize for the mess on 5th Avenue. My operative was instructed to take the girl cleanly, but you had to play the hero."

"Why do you want her?" Luca demanded. "She has nothing to do with your syndicate."

"She has everything to do with it," Cross replied smoothly. "Her late father, Arthur Carter, was not just a paramedic, Luca. Before he died, he was the chief logistics director for Vanderbilt & Cole. He built the digital encryption key for Account 99—a fund containing four billion dollars in seized offshore assets."

Olivia gasped, staring at the back of Luca's head. "My father... my father was a paramedic!"

"Your father was a genius who wanted out of the game, my dear," Cross corrected softly. "He hid the master decryption algorithm in his family's personal estate records. When he died, the key passed to his children. Your brother tried to sell it to us to pay off his debts, but he couldn't unlock the second layer without your biometric signature."

Olivia looked down at her hands, trembling violently. Everything she had believed about her quiet, simple family was dissolving into smoke. Her father’s long hours, his sudden death four years ago, Daniel’s sudden influx of money—it was all connected to a four-billion-dollar blood vault.

"What do you want, Cross?" Luca asked, his grip tightening on his gun.

"A trade," Cross said flatly. "The girl and the decryption key in exchange for her brother and her aunt. You have two hours to bring her to Pier 88 at the Hudson Yards. If you involve the police, or if your aunt Victoria tries to ambush my men... I will send you your brother's fingers one by one."

The line went dead.

The tactical man standing in the doorway slowly lowered his submachine gun, a cold, mocking smile touching his lips. "You heard the boss, Moretti. Two hours."

He turned and walked back into the bright hallway, allowing the heavy steel door to slam shut behind him.

Olivia collapsed against the concrete wall, sliding down until she was sitting on the cold floor, her face buried in her hands as silent, violent sobs wracked her body.

"It was all a lie," she wept. "My father... my brother... my whole life was built on dirty money."

Luca dropped to one knee before her. He didn't offer empty words of comfort. He reached out, taking her wrists and gently pulling her hands away from her face, forcing her to look at him.

"Listen to me, Olivia," Luca said, his gray eyes burning with an intense, unwavering fire. "Your father made a mistake. Your brother made a choice. But you are innocent. You threw your body over a bleeding stranger on a public street because you have a good heart. Do you hear me? You are not them."

"He has my aunt, Luca," she cried, looking into his eyes. "He’s going to kill Daniel."

"He isn't going to kill anyone," Luca said, standing up and pulling her to her feet with effortlessly strong hands. "Because we aren't going to Pier 88 to negotiate."

"What are we going to do?"